


bitter pill

by adaptation



Category: VH - A Harry Potter Roleplay Site
Genre: Alumni, F/M, Kitchen Sex, VH21 (2023-2024)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaptation/pseuds/adaptation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crack.</p><p>She jumped at the unexpected noise, flying back into the counter as Kingston appeared in her living room.</p><p>“God, don’t you knock?” she blurted, her hand flying to her chest, where her heart was thudding heavily against her chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bitter pill

It wasn’t that late when the movie ended, and Paige didn’t feel particularly tired. The film had left her with a curiously tranquil mood, and she watched the credits straight through, curled up in a ball on her sofa, until the picture flickered into streaky blackness. Her head shifted on the pillow as she looked out the window of the little flat she shared with Lilian. The night sky was dark, velvet blue, and her apartment was too high up for her view to be marred by street light pollution, and the stars twinkled cheekily at her, as if to say, “Why are you home alone on a Friday night?” She tossed a mock glare out the window at them and, sitting up, clicked off the television, rendering her flat momentarily black. She pushed off her blanket, and waited until her light blue eyes adjusted to the darkness before she even attempted to make her way into the kitchen. 

She didn’t mind spending the night by herself. Actually, the downtime was nice. Her job kept her busy throughout the week, and sometimes they called her in on weekends or at nights. Lilian was gregarious, so whenever she was home, she was trying to con Paige into doing something. Tonight, though, Lilian was out on a date, which meant she’d probably not be home until well after daybreak. Lilian’s version of a date was just getting the guy to pay for dinner before she jumped him.

Likewise, Kingston was out enjoying himself with Sebastian. She didn’t mind when the two went out clubbing, as they so often did, being rich and stupidly attractive. She trusted that he’d keep his hands (and other parts) to himself. Although he did tend to take advantage of his freedom the times they’d broken up in school, he’d never cheated on her. She assumed this was because he realized she could kill him if she wanted to.

The kitchen had another window just above the sink which filtered in enough light that she didn’t need to turn on the artificial one in the ceiling. Having indulged in her movie-first, work-later mentality already, it was time she accomplished something. A quick turn of the tap had the sink filling with warm water, and she added just enough soap to make it bubble. It was true that the dishes would have done themselves if she’d just flicked her wand at them the right way, but there was something soothing in the repetitive motions of washing the dishes that suited her mood. The hot water felt nice against the skin of her hands, but each plate she scrubbed turned the pads of her fingers the slightest bit prunier.

Life was good lately. She enjoyed her job, despite its hectic hours. It made her feel like she contributed. She wanted to help people, and she got to do that, with the help of her crup, Spock, who was currently getting little brown hairs all over her freshly-washed comforter. Her relationship with Kingston was finally in a steady place, now that they were both out of school. They’d settled into a routine, spending a night or two at Paige’s, and then a few at Kingston and Seb’s. She liked Sebastian well enough, so it hadn’t caused problems often. She didn’t mind when he wanted a guy’s night out, and Sebastian liked the clubs, so whenever he dragged Kingston off for a night on the town, she just considered it a night to herself and curled up with a book or something from the rental shop.

When she finished the dishes, the water drained noisily and she dried her hands on a plaid towel, wiping up the droplets that had splashed onto the counter. Once that was finished, she stretched leisurely, surveying the apartment. She couldn’t think of anything else that needed to be done. Maybe she’d call it an early night.

Crack.

She jumped at the unexpected noise, flying back into the counter as Kingston appeared in her living room.

“God, don’t you knock?” she blurted, her hand flying to her chest, where her heart was thudding heavily against her chest.

In three slow strides he was in the kitchen with her, his hands weighty on her ribcage and his breath hot on her ear. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Her pulse slowly returned to normal, and when she spoke it was calmer, softer. Her fingers curled around his arm, just above his elbow, and her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled the scent of him. There was scotch on his breath, and something musty clung to his clothes. He’d gone to that club with the tacky fog machine, hadn’t he? Through all that, she could still detect his own distinct scent, the one that was masculine and a little spicy, and always made her feel a little bit heady. “I thought you weren’t coming over tonight.”

“Thought wrong, didn’t you?”

She made a face at him in retaliation, although he couldn’t see it. He pressed his lips against her jaw. She sighed gently, smiling into his hair. “You just came here for sex, right?”

“Right.” His tone was light and teasing, but when she pulled back to look him at him, she detected the telltale glint in his blue-green eyes that suggested she’d not be getting any work done for at least forty-five minutes. He smirked, his thumb brushing the side of her breast through the light tee she wore. She cocked an eyebrow and unsnapped the clasp of his jeans.

Her thumb and index finger closed around the zipper tab just as his mouth landed on hers, hot and wet. Her lips parted automatically, second nature, and she grazed his tongue with hers as she lowered his zipper. Its hiss was audible in the darkness, silent except for their breathing. Her hand skid beneath the denim into the silk of his boxers, and his cock jumped eagerly against her palm. Kingston broke their kiss, his forehead leaning against hers and his breath hitting her lips in quick, heated pants. She stroked him gently, slowly, with fleeting touches designed to simultaneously aggravate and arouse. Her other hand curved around the back of his neck, holding him close. His fingers had slipped to her hips, gripping her tightly, and she could feel his jaw tense.

It was funny, this comfortable routine they'd fallen into. They'd been together, on and off, since she was fifteen, and those fives years had left her totally at ease with him in the most physical of ways. He could stroll into her apartment, drunk and horny, and, unless she was pissed off at him for one little reason or another, the odds were heavily in the favour of her receiving him willingly and eagerly. Lilian would call her easy, but Paige preferred to think of it as going with the flow. If the flow happened to carry her onto her queen-sized mattress, so be it.

A set of tanned fingers wrapped around the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head smoothly. He chuckled against her neck when his hand cupped her unfettered breast; she'd not bothered with a bra since it had just been her and an old Bruce Willis flick. He pecked her lightly on the mouth and she sighed, her fingers gently squeezing him inside the confines of his jeans.

“Take me to bed,” she said, her thumb passing over the tip of his cock.

“No,” he countered, the syllable coming out half-groan.

She pulled her hand sharply out of his pants, eyes narrowing at him. “What do you mean, no?” That response wasn't allowed. He was the one who'd come here all hot and hard and looking for a good time. Was this his idea of some stupid joke? Godric, if he'd come over just to get her all worked up and then leave, she would throttle him to within an inch of his -

“I mean 'no',” he said, quickly hooking his fingers into the waistband of the little shorts she wore and tugging them down her hips. They dropped unfettered to the floor and then he'd grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her onto the counter. Then his own pants and boxers were around his ankles and his cock was nudging her thigh.

Kingston's hands splayed over her hips and he jerked her closer to him, causing her hands to fly back to search for something to grab onto. She was too high up to grab the handles on the cabinets, and taking hold of the counter's lip wouldn't do any good, so she settled for fisting one hand in his hair and grabbing a handful of his t-shirt in the other. 

She'd barely gotten a good grip on him when he thrust hard into her, nearly throwing her back into the cabinet. Paige gasped throatily and wrapped her legs around his waist, clasping them at the ankles. He found a rhythm quickly and easily, and his head settled in the curve of her shoulder, with his mouth occasionally wandering higher or lower depending on his choice-of-the-moment. It didn't take long for her to get frustrated with his lack-of-skin and pull of his shirt, tossing it in the vague direction of the living room.

She liked him best when he was shirtless. His shoulders were toned and his skin was heated and taut under her fingers and she loved the way he squirmed when she dug her nails into his back just like that. He bit down on her neck in retaliation and she knew she'd have a vicious red mark there in the morning. She moaned anyway.

He changed the angle of his entry just slightly, and somehow he managed to change it so perfectly that his pelvic bone ground into her clit at the end of each thrust. The shock of pleasure that stabbed through her the first time that happened sent her head smacking backward into the cabinet, but she didn't even notice.

“Fuck. Do that again,” she insisted, and he did, and he was rewarded with a deep, hot, hard kiss that left them both breathless. It didn't take much longer for climax to near, especially once Paige got impatient and dropped her hand between their bodies to work her clit. Kingston groaned just knowing it was happening, which made Paige smile and kiss him. She came with his mouth on hers, suppressing her high-pitched little squeals and four thrusts later he followed, planting one final time deep inside her, tensing, and collapsing against her with an exhausted, half-drunk groan.

They took several moments to regain their breath and come down from the post-orgasmic high that always followed a particularly rousing episode of him fucking her on the nearest piece of furniture.

“So,” Paige said, exhaustion thinning her voice, “get what you came for?”

He kissed her again, but this time it was light and lingering. “More.”


End file.
